


Nightmares and Dreamscapes

by cindyls1969



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mindfuck, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-05-28 07:53:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19389772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cindyls1969/pseuds/cindyls1969
Summary: Steve wakes up one morning alone and his worst nightmare has come true. Bucky is gone. Not just gone, but it's like he never existed at all to anyone but Steve. It's going to take an unlikely alliance to figure this one out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a writer suffering from severe writer's block and seeing as how I started with fanfiction, I figured I'd give it a go. Not beta'd so let me know if there's mistakes...nicely please.

Steve groaned and rolled over on to his back. Every muscle in his body hurt and his head was pounding like it hadn’t since before the serum. Reaching out his left hand, he encountered nothing but cold sheets and he frowned.

“Buck?” His voice was ragged and it felt like he’d been swallowing glass. “Buck what in the hell did we get up to last night?”

Steve tried to think back to the evening before but everything was a blank. Had they gotten into Thor’s special home brew from Asgard again? He looked at the clock beside the bed. 6 am and Bucky was up already? He never crawled out before 8 unless it was a life or death emergency.

Steve sat up slowly, trying not retch as the pain in his head hit a screaming crescendo before dulling to a slow thudding. He closed his eyes and waited until the swirling in his head receded and the ache in his stomach let up a little. “Buck? I feel like shit. Seriously, did we get drunk?”

Staggering to his feet, Steve made his way out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen. When he didn’t find Bucky there, he went to the living room, but there was no sign of him.

“Where in the hell did he go?” Steve turned to leave, but stopped when something caught his eye. Or rather when something didn’t. Bucky’s guitar was missing from beside the couch. He looked around but the thing was bright blue and stuck out like a sore thumb and it wasn’t anywhere in the room.

“What the fuck?” Now that he was looking, more things caught his attention. The blanket that Bucky had knitted and usually lay over the back of the couch was gone, as was the collection of sea glass that Bucky had been collecting for the last few years.

Steve’s heart started to pound in his chest. Walking into the kitchen he could see more empty spots. Bucky’s favorite mug wasn’t beside the coffee maker and the drawing he’d done while waiting for Steve to come home from a mission last month wasn’t on the fridge.

Running down the hall to their room, Steve opened the closet. It was only half full…all of Bucky’s stuff was gone. Steve couldn’t breath. Looking around he noticed the framed pictures he’d hung on the wall when they moved into the little brownstone they’d found in Brooklyn. He’d found a bunch of photos of him and Bucky on his camera and had printed them off and framed them as a joke, but Bucky had loved them and insisted on leaving them up.

Fear clawed at Steve’s chest as he walked over to look at them. They were still there…but Bucky was missing from all of them. “Fuck.”

He fell to his knees like a puppet who’s string had been cut. Bucky was gone, like he’d never been there and Steve had no idea what was happening. He started crawling over to the night table to get his phone and call for help, but the pain in his head exploded and it was a blessing when darkness finally overtook him.

He woke to beeping and the unmistakable smell of disinfectant. How had he ended up in the hospital?

“I think he’s waking up.” Wanda’s quiet voice was like a balm to his still aching head.

“Thank god.” Sam sounded worried and tired.

Steve forced his eyes open. He tried to speak but nothing came out, his throat dry and scratchy causing him to choke. There was a glass of water in front of him in seconds, and Nat’s encouraging voice in his ear. “Come on Steve. Have a little sip, then trying talking.”

Steve accepted the straw and the cool water felt like heaven as he swallowed it down. Once he’d had enough, he leaned back and looked around. He was surprised to see Tony standing in the corner, looking at him and frowning. He and Tony didn’t speak a lot these days after Steve chose Bucky over him.

“Bucky…oh my god he’s gone. I couldn’t find him. Tony, what did you do? Where in the fuck is Bucky?”

“Steve you need to calm down.” Natasha pushed him back and leaned over to look him in the eye. “You’ve been out for a week and you’re still very weak.”

Steve struggled to get up but Tony was beside him in a second. “Listen Cap, you just gotta relax. The docs are working on what happened to you, so just take it easy, like Nat said.”

Steve glared at him. “What in the hell did you do with Bucky, Stark?”

Tony looked around the room before turning back to Steve, confusion evident on his face. “Who the hell is Bucky?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, got distracted by real life....

Steve sat on the couch in his living room and trying to ignore the pounding on his door. He’d spent two days at the hospital going around and around with all the Avengers about Bucky but when they had started to suggest that Steve might need some “professional” help, he’d walked out. Tony had reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him, but when Steve had turned to glare at him, Tony had let go without another word.

It was Natasha at the door and he had no doubts that if she really wanted in, she’d get in, but he was hoping that she wouldn’t try. “Steve open the god damned door. I just want to talk to you.”

Steve got up and wrenched open the door. “I’m pretty sure we’ve done enough talking at this point Nat. You all think I’m nuts and I don’t. Give me some time to figure things out, okay? I know you all will be keeping an eye on me so I don’t go crazy and start killing people, so for now, just leave me alone.”

Nat looked at him quietly for a moment before speaking. “We don’t think you’re nuts exactly.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, you do. I even got Wanda to take a look into my brain and you heard what she said.”

Nat sighed. “She said that all she could see was that you believed what you’re telling us.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “We’re just worried about you.” He knew they were and he honestly couldn’t blame them at this point, but he knew that Bucky Barnes wasn’t just a figment of his imagination and he didn’t know how to convince them otherwise.

“I appreciate that Nat, but something’s going on that I can’t figure out and I still feel like shit and I just want to be left alone right now.” He shook his head, trying to clear the fuzzy, heavy feeling that just wouldn’t go away, despite the fact that the serum should mean that it shouldn’t exist. “I am still allowed to need time alone? I mean, I know the rest of the world thinks that I belong to them, but my friends know that I’m still a person, right?”

Nat winced. “Of course you’re still a person Steve.” She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “Okay, I’m going for now. But if you need anything, just call me okay? Maybe I can help.”

“Not until you believe that I’m telling the truth.” He was tired…tired of arguing, tired of trying to explain himself…just tired of everything. “Goodbye Nat.”

He closed and locked the door without letting her say anything else before wandering into the kitchen.

It was weird to not see any of Bucky’s stuff there. It was like everything was dull and lifeless without the color and chaos that Bucky brought into his world. “Jesus Christ Buck. Where did you go?”

Pulling out his computer, he started doing some research. It wasn’t just that everyone thought that Bucky had died in the fall from the train in 1945, it’s that as far as the rest of the world was concerned, he never seemed to have existed at all. It made no sense. Without Bucky, Steve would have died when he was a teen. Between all the times he rescued Steve from the fights he managed to get himself into and the fact that it was Buck who often got Steve the medicines he needed when he was sick, there’s no way Steve would have made it to his 20’s and getting Ernskine’s serum.

Adding to that, rescuing Bucky from Azzano was the catalyst that forced Steve to break out of his role as a shill for the US government, and what no one ever seemed to realize is that Captain America owed his existence to Bucky Barnes just as much as Steve Roger’s did.

He tried typing Bucky’s name into the search engine but the buzzing in his head intensified, making it hard to force his fingers to work properly. The more he tried to concentrate, the worse it was. He pushed through it, desperate for something to go on, but when he hit enter, the computer froze. He tried rebooting it but it was completely unresponsive.

Steve’s frustration got the better of him and he slammed the laptop shut and pushed it off the table. It flew across the room and shattered against the wall, the sound making Steve wince as the pain in his head flared up again before dulling down once more.

Getting up, he went to the fridge and opened it, looking for something quick and easy to make because while he knew he needed to eat, it felt like way too much effort to make more than toast and eggs. Grabbing the eggs and butter, he closed the fridge and put the eggs on the counter by the stove. Seeing Bucky’s ridiculous flavored coffee cream in the fridge made him smile. Steve couldn’t stand the sweetness but Buck had loved it.

Steve stood up straight and went quickly back to the fridge. Steve didn’t drink that stuff, so if Bucky didn’t exist, then why was it in his fridge? Pulling the door open, he looked in again, but the spot where he’d seen it was empty.

Steve almost dismissed seeing it, but his photographic memory knew better. It had been there but as soon as he’d remembered it, it had disappeared.

Something really wasn’t right. Every time he tried to think about Bucky his head started pounding harder. The computer froze at the moment he was trying to look Bucky up on the internet and now things were disappearing out of his fridge.

But why? Why would anyone want to get rid of Bucky Barnes? The world as a whole would change if he’d never existed because of the things that he’d done, both as himself and as the Winter Soldier, yet as far as Steve could tell, everything was exactly the same.

He tried to focus on what could have happened the day before, but every time he reached for the memories, his head started pounding. It was like he was fighting against his own brain to hold on to the idea of Bucky Barnes but it just made him more determined to find out why.

Steve needed help, but he wasn’t sure who to turn to. The other Avengers had not only been resistant to the idea that Steve was not crazy, were almost aggressive in their stance. He needed someone who would be more open to the idea that something wasn’t quite right in the universe.

There was a flash in his head of a man in blue and red, with a goatee and Steve tried to grab on to the memory but it felt like it was wrenched away from him, leaving him breathless with pain.

He’d closed the fridge and went back to the living room, all thoughts of food forgotten. Sitting down on the couch, he lay his head against the back and closed his eyes, trying to will the pain to stop so he could think, but it wouldn’t go away. Instead he found himself slipping toward sleep and he was too exhausted to fight it.

_Steve? Can you hear me Steve? You need to…._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve needs to find some help, but where does he start?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is taking place sometime after CW but kind of diverges from there.

_Steve? Come on pal, you gotta fight this. You can do this. You’re the most stubborn asshole I know. Listen to me Steve. She’s fucking with you and you have to fight back. Steve please…_

Steve jerked awake and sat up. “Bucky?” He looked around desperately, Bucky’s voice still ringing in his ears like he’d been right beside him just seconds ago. But nothing had changed. All of Bucky’s things were still gone. He groaned and put his head in his hands.

The headache he’d woken up with when he’d discovered Bucky had vanished had never really gone away, just dulling down to a soft buzz that always seemed to be pushing at his skull.

It got worse when he tried to remember things about Bucky and what had happened the night before he’d disappeared. In fact, whenever he talked about Bucky and tried to explain things to the other Avengers, it always started pounding, like it was trying to distract him from his own thoughts.

He tried to remember what he’d been dreaming about, but when he pushed for the memory, the pain became blinding and he had to let it go.

Steve knew he needed help, but he wasn’t sure who to turn to. If the people who knew him best didn’t believe him, then who would.

_They don’t know like I do._

Steve stood up and looked around wildly. He had to be losing his mind because he could have sworn he was hearing Bucky’s voice inside his head.

Shaking his head, Steve thought about all the people he’d seen in Shields files. So many people with so many different gifts. There had to be someone who could help him figure out what was going on.

_Strange…its Strange_

“What’s strange?” He rubbed his eyes. Talking to people who weren’t there. Yeah, that was fucked up.

Strange…something tickled at the back of his mind. A name he’d seen as a target on the helicarrier before it crashed. He closed his eyes and struggled past the painful flare behind them. He could see a face–a goatee and dark, knowing eyes–Stephen Strange.

What was it about Stephen Strange that had caught Shield’s–and Hydra’s–attention? “Is that it? Am I supposed to find him?” Steve listened hopefully for an answer, but the voice was quiet.

But the little tickle at the back of his brain wouldn’t stop and with nothing else to go on, he figured he might as well see what he could find out about the man.

Sitting around wasn’t getting him anywhere and he knew it wouldn’t be long before Nat or Sam or Tony got the idea into their heads that he needed checking on or that he needed help and insisting on this this time. And he did need help, just not the kind they were thinking.

He looked at the shattered remains of his laptop still scattered on the floor and sighed. He was going to have to look for information somewhere else. Standing up, he walked to the front door. He slipped his shoes on and grabbed a cap and hoodie out of his closet, before leaving the apartment and quickly making his way out of the building.

Checking his watch, he discovered that it was only about 7pm. He googled Stephen Strange from his phone but all he could find were references to an accident from a few years ago. Some of the articles speculated about his sudden disappearance from the public eye after the lose of his spectacular surgical career.

Deciding he needed more information, he headed for the library he regularly frequented. As he walked, the feeling of wrongness seemed to grow. He and Bucky regularly walked the neighborhood, both wanting to be a part of the community they lived in.

Most days they had a hard time going a whole block without someone waving hello or stopping to chat with them. But as he walked, no one spoke to him and most people never even bothered to look his way. It was quiet…unnaturally so. The streets around their place were usually bustling with people. Not crowded, just full of life. There was always someone going somewhere…to the movies, down to the bodega, for coffee at the little café where they treated Bucky like a movie star since the day he saved the owner’s little granddaughter when she darted into traffic after pulling away from her grandmother’s hand.

It was like everything around him had been muted, the colors around him were dull and dingy. It was like the world was fading away.

It felt like something important was slipping out of his hands and if he didn’t hurry up and figure out how to hang on, he would lose it forever.

The thought quickened his pace.

When he arrived at the library he stopped and looked up. For a moment, he thought the library was closed. All the windows seemed dark even though it was usually open until 11pm and he felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Clenching his fists in frustration, he almost turned to leave, but the door on the front of the building opened, bathing him in a soft, golden glow momentarily and then a familiar looking young woman hurried out. The door was closing slowly behind her and when she passed him, he could hear her speak quietly. “Better hurry Cap, times running out.”

“What?” He looked at the almost closed door and then turned back to speak to her but she was gone. “Fuck.” He darted towards the door, barely catching it before it shut and let himself into the library.

Things just kept getting weirder and while his headache seemed to be holding steady, he could feel his anxiety building and building and he was afraid of what would happen when it finally crashed over him.

He leaned against the wall inside the door. “I’m gonna find out what happened to you Buck. I promise. I’m not losing you again.” Taking a deep breath, he pushed off the wall and headed for the computer room. It was time to find Dr. Strange.


End file.
